Slow. Heavy. Patient.
Julián turned.
Amalia’s voice dropped. “Do not open it.”
A man’s voice came from outside. “Señora Montemayor. Don Esteban says the groom’s family is asking for you.”
Julián’s blood went cold. Esteban Montemayor. Amalia’s cousin. The elegant man with silver hair who had toasted at the reception with a smile too smooth to trust. Julián continue reading …
